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Snippet #2145822

located in United States, a part of Angel....or Mutant?, one of the many universes on RPG.

United States

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: "Sariya" Eins Character Portrait: Marcus Character Portrait: Matthew "Matt" Bernard Character Portrait: Marceline "Marcy" Bernard Character Portrait: Michael Character Portrait: Alice
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Marceline

"Where?!" Marcus retorted sarcastically. Figuratively speaking, his sharp response provoked an equally sharp feeling in my chest.

It was like venom versus venom.

"Anywhere but here," I said, scathingly, pausing just enough to get in a pouting scowl. My own sarcasm burned my tongue; it was natural, for me at least, to act that way. To challenge when I felt I was challenged. And so, I flinched internally, hoping Marcus wouldn't take it badly.

The pseudo nurse was still coming after me, his long, heavy muscled arms outstretched in a threateningly uncomfortable way. Grimacing, I imagined that the incoming grip was a gentle hug, rather than the tight squeeze I knew I would feel in less than a minute. I gasped when his arms wrapped around me, quashing the breath out of my lungs and making my world spin with oxygen deprived dizziness. Ouch. I could feel my wing crushed up against my back; it disturbed me when I realized that my damaged wing had gone limp. I suppose the pain had been a bit much for it to endure.

I was in the air now. I was tall myself, but this guy was taller and stronger. With his height, my toes could barely reach the ground.

"Idiot," I grumbled under my breath, knowing he wouldn't hear me. He grinned down at me condescendingly, and I could feel my rage growing. Writing in his arms, I tried to slip out of his grip. Instead, my foot clipped him in the knee, forcing him to drop me as he doubled over in pain. Good. I hoped his knee would feel pain for a good week or two (you know, if he happened to survive this encounter.)

While he was wreathing on the floor, I found myself in the vice tight grip of much slimmer, more sure, arms. A woman. She'd been so quiet, I'd barely had time to react before I'd realized that her slim hands were wrapped around my neck. The best I could have done was slip out from under the delicate strangling half circle she created with her left arm, only for me to grab her right and fling her over my head. My wing (both of them, thank goodness) were beginning to feel normal again, as the blood flow previously constricted returned back to its normal flow, and I ripped off my blood soaked sweater. I was taking this bitch down.

She snapped up on her legs faster than humanly possible, and began charging at me again. I would have compared her to a hunting lioness, if I knew what one looked like.

"You are going down." I snarled charging back and snapping out my wings. The elongated hall of the hospital was perfect; flapping hard, it was less than three seconds before I was in the air at my top speed, my wings slightly bent to compensate for the fact that hall was smaller than the length of both my wings put together. For a minute second I wondered how the boys, with t their probably large wingspans, would have been able to cope with the claustrophobic space.

I have no idea what my top speed it; but, I do know that it supposedly breaks the speed of sound. Curiously I wondered if this was the fastest I could go. Could I break the speed of light? It was a good question, since I hadn't always been able to fly this fast. It had built up over the years, till I had hit a maximum speed. The Ward Master hadn't labeled it as my utmost max speed, and so it left me wondering how they had programmed my body.

And for that matter, for the first time in my life, my eyes. Normally, a bird kid, even with our advanced sight, would not have been able to see at my speed. Their eyes would have teared up and everything around them should have been a blur. But I was seeing just fine. A slight frown tugged at my lips; it had always seemed so natural that I had never considered it. Perhaps, when they had messed with my brother’s sight they had messed with mine too?

I didn’t have enough time to contemplate all those questions. Before the lady was able to hear the flap of my wings I had crashed into her (what with my faster than sound thing going on). I heard a sickening crack come from her arm, and a splatter of blood whipped across my face in a diagonal line. Ew.

We crashed into the very end of the hall, rolling in a discordant ball, and tumbling more than a few nurses out of the way. When we finally stopped, I was able to look back and check out Marcus and Eins.

To my surprise, and dismay, Eins seemed to have been hurt. However, he’d done it, Marcus had saved her. As I tried to get up, I froze, feeling a strange tingling sensation rolling down my back. It was stressful, as thought my muscles had tensed up, and I realized that was exactly what happened. To make matter worse, the muscle spasm had my left wing (the hurt one) constantly pulsing with pain. I kneeled on the ground, not sure if I was giving up or taking a break.

Matthew

I nodded briefly before dissolving from our little group to head down my hall. It was only now, when I was away from Sam and Taylor, did I realized how frightened I really was. My mouth feel dry, and I could feel the early stages of a headache crawling up along my brain. I needed an Advil or Aspirin, or whatever the hell people used to get rid of headaches.

I could give you all the boring details of my exploration through the hall but I’m not trying to kill you. All you need to know was that is exceedingly dreary and frightening to be alone and worried for my sister. It had all my nerves on end, and I found myself carefully picking my way from nurse to nurse, politely asking them discreet questions, hoping they wouldn’t relate me to my sister quickly.

After about fifteen minutes of searching I heard the strangest thing I’d ever heard in my entire life. Third floor, eastern corridor off of room 308. The Angels are under attack. Help them. I hissed (at least in the human approximation of the word) before I began making sense of the urgent invasion of sorts. It didn’t take me long to deduce how I had received such an alien plea for help; either a) there were other mutants in the hospital, or b) the Ward was trying to bait me. And either way you looked at it, if the Ward was trying to bait me or not, it meant that either Marce, Taylor, or Sam were in trouble.

Following the direction, I soon found myself close to room 308. And that’s when I spotted her. Relieft flooded through me.

“Marce!” I called out, elated. She was hurt, so that definitely meant something was going on. There was a woman not too far away from her with a deformed looking arm. She was slouched against the wall, her lips twitching angrily as she stopped me quickly lopping towards my sister.

“Don’t you dare,” the woman growled at me as I went in to pick my sister off the ground. I had been about grumble my own response back when I realized she was holding a gun to my face. I swallowed noisily waiting for her to pull the trigger. Time seemed to stop, and I barely had a fraction of a second before I ducked. The bullet careened off the metal top of the hall, reflecting back and digging itself into the flat marble floor.

I looked back at her stunned; had she really been out to kill me? Usually the Ward went for capturing, not killing. And there was nothing even remotely Vampire-ish about her. Out of my peripheral vision I was just able to spot the blurred shapes of two smaller (or rather thinner) people, about my age, I would guess. I didn’t risk glancing, too afraid that the gun was still loaded.

Alice

"You did great, I fell on my face a few times before I could even fly at all. You're a natural, When you want to land just get as close to the ground, flare your wings a few times to reduce speed."

I felt a genuine smile creep onto my face. How many times in my life had I even been complimented? I’ll answer that for you; not many.

Even with the space Mike was giving me, I found myself angling away from him, not wanting to be smacked by his mammoth wings. For a while, I admired the way he flew. It was far more graceful than me, and if there was anyone who was “natural” at flying out of the two of us, I would have thought it was him rather than me.

For a while we flew separately, until it seemed that he had something to tell me. Carefully, he angled his wings, coming close enough that I could hear him, but staying far away enough so that we didn’t collide.

"We'll be landing at the edge of the forest, we wouldn't want any bird kids seeing our approach." I nodded quietly, listening intently as he spoke.

Then, as he had described to me earlier, he began descending towards the ground, flaring his wings out in order to make a smooth landing. I watched him with envy; I knew this was the part of the day where I failed my flying test.

He called down for her, and she grimaced when he mentioned “handling this nicely.” This was not going to be nice.

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered under her breath. Taking a steep (probably too steep) dive downwards, she angled herself as best as she could, for the ground. It wasn’t enough.

“Ouch,” she growled, as she tumbled in a pile of crumpled leaves and pointy bushed. Groaning, she asked sarcastically (something she had picked up from observing one of the bird kids), “How was that.” She rolled her eyes, not at Mike, but rather at herself.

Twisting around so that she could see her wing, she grunted when she realized that her Vampire wing, jet black as it was, was marred with the small trickle of blood that indicated a cut. Her pure white Angle wing seemed find, albeit a bit ruffled.